


World of Serpents: Book 1

by GuildScale



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuildScale/pseuds/GuildScale
Summary: Scourges. Saviors. Angels. Abominations.All of the above terms have been used throughout history to describedragons, the most purely manifested forces of nature the world has ever managed to muster. Time and time again do these magical beings leave their mark; time and time again do tales and fables form to tell of their pasts and forewarn of their futures.And yet, despite their distant divinity, dragons routinely descend from their collective pedestal for reasons known only to them...To them, and maybe the mortals whose affairs they see fit to meddle with.Aoi is a fast-learning ninja in a foreign land, with neither a clan nor a household to call home. What she does have, though, is a master to serve and a sensei to teach her further. Both come in the form of Phoenix, the Eternal Flame, whose will Aoi carries out while wielding a pactbound portion of the dragon’s power.On an impromptu mission gone awry, Aoi finds herself swept away by a sudden squall—and soon enough, swept up into a matter far more dire than her deep-seated sense of duty.(...Or at least, shewould, if I ever planned on finishing this thing. Alas, it’s marked Abandoned for a reason!)
Collections: Good Intentions: Abandoned and Unfinished WIPs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, an event that I can actually participate in! (Good Intentions, that is.) 
> 
> So, since I don’t see myself providing a rest-of-the-fic anytime soon, I might as well provide some context instead. So, I’ll start off by saying that this was actually one of the first ideas I had for a fic once I started to “get serious” in regards to writing. Dragalia Lost was my gacha-based obsession at the time, and what little we knew of the world and characters around when it first went online enthralled me to no end. Hell, just the _premise_ made my inner...well, _every_ -year-old squeal. People making pacts with dragons? Sign me up for that shapeshifting stuff!
> 
> Oh. Wait. I have to be born into a royal bloodline, or have a royal pass on a pact to me? Dang.
> 
> ...But what if...?
> 
> And thus, the _Manaverse_ was born (at least, in my Google Docs folder). It was a personal AU based first and foremost on a simple concept: What if ‘draconic blood’ didn’t exist? What if, given the opportunity and will, just about anyone could make a pact with a dragon to aid in whatever personal agenda they may have had?
> 
> On top of making the world at large more accessible to the minor, gacha-exclusive characters, it also helped me more comfortably ignore the game’s canon plotline as it was. This AU would’ve diverged in more ways than just that though—various characters would have been altered themselves, in both backstory and actual characterization (and you can probably see a bit of that in what I have here). I would’ve all but ditched the post-apocalypse angle in the worldbuilding, and expanded the ways a dragonpact could be made as well what forms it could actually take. Likewise to the latter, I basically came up with my own soft-ish magic system separate from the game’s own so I could have something to actually work with. Soon enough, my head was abuzz with bits of lore I could build plots off of, ideas for spinoffs and sister series starring my own takes on the characters I loved...
> 
> But as time passed, and banners breezed by, I grew to love what the game was offering less and less. I ended up making more and more alterations simply by merit of what I had planned, and soon enough had to straight-up ignore the existence of certain entities or characters in canon if I wanted my plot to even work properly—which seriously put a damper on my spirit. And that’s to say nothing of the fandom surrounding it, but I won’t get into those grievances...unless someone asks.
> 
> On that note, I’m completely open to questions regarding this eternally-unfulfilled ambition of mine. I’ll gladly spill the beans about the stuff I had planned, give some insight into what I have actually written, or talk about what I think of this franchise as it is now. Keep in mind, though, that I don’t consider myself much of an active fan of Dragalia Lost anymore, so I may not be that up to snuff on the current state of things.
> 
> With that in mind, enjoy! (But hopefully not too much to want more, I guess?)

Thunder rumbled like an angry beast as dark clouds smothered the sky above. Lightning pulsed through the shadowy heavens’ veins, while brief but brilliant flashes lit up the distant horizon.

Really, waxing poetic about the scenery was all Yachiyo could do at the moment to keep boredom at bay—it was certainly a worthy challenge for the samurai, all things considered.

She looked over her shoulder at the trolley trailing behind, all chained up under lock and key.

“My, certainly an awful lot of trouble to be making over such a small gem, isn’t it?” she mused to the man next to her, who took a small break from scanning the path ahead to glare at her.

“Awful lot of fuss for our bodyguard to be making about it, eh?”

Yachiyo sighed, letting her gaze roll elsewhere. “Well, gosh. Pardon _me_ for asking, I suppose.”

“Just keep it down, will you? We don’t want to draw any unwanted attention, is all.”

Yachiyo shrugged. “Fine then, paranoi-sama.”

“Huh?”

Yachiyo smirked, stifling a chuckle. “Nothing.”

* * *

Aoi lowered her monocular, glancing over at the red-frilled dove perched beside her. “Are you sure about this, Phoenix?” she whispered, worry tinging her features.

“Yes, Aoi,” a voice responded through her mind, “I’m quite sure. Whatever is in that cart, I’d rather have it in my hands than anywhere else—at the moment, at least.”

Aoi sighed. “Right…”

The dove cocked its head. “You seem more… _hesitant_ than usual, Aoi. Is something bothering you?”

Aoi peered at the small entourage yet again, silent for a few somber seconds.

“Aoi.”

The ninja snapped out of her trance, shaking her head and finally putting the tool away. She smiled—though it wavered, even as her muscles tensed.

“Nah, it’s nothing. I’m ready, sensei.”

The dove seemed to sigh, before taking flight. “If you say so…”

With that, Aoi leapt off of one branch and onto another, letting the ground scale up towards her as she made her way up the hill. She perched again, this time right beside the trail. She pulled out her monocular again, going on to inspect the trolley more closely.

She squinted into the lens, feeling the flutter of feathery wings next to her ear. “It looks like the cart’s chained up…can you see if you can unlock it?”

Wordlessly, the dove swooped down towards the group, while Aoi began to make her way towards the ground.

* * *

Yachiyo yawned; the only way she could keep her mind busy at this point was by pondering on _how to busy it_. A part of her wished that she’d brought her kendama along—she never could get much of a handle on that old thing.

Suddenly, though, something actually managed to interrupt Yachiyo’s barely chugging train of thought. Said something was fluttering along through the quietly whipping wind.

 _That's an odd-looking bird…_ She thought, watching its curious red feathers trail along in the breeze before it swooped out of view. She noted that the lookout didn't seem to pay much mind, but that didn't stop her from getting curious…

* * *

By the time Phoenix had returned, Aoi was clinging to the back of the trolley like a desperate infant. Not once did she regret all the time spent training to keep her presence in check—namely (at least in this case) in the form of controlling her body weight. When she caught sight of the dove flying overhead, she reached out a hand and caught the keyring that it dropped. After a moment of relief, she clambered onto the top of the trolley and began unlocking its chains, unsure if it was sweat or a droplet of rain trailing down her face.

Aoi’s focus shattered at the sound of a flustered shout—and she froze as the trolley rocked with a thud. Her gaze slowly trailed upwards from the lock; first meeting a pair of boots, then a floral pink yukata, and then a smiling face with a pair of distinctive purple eyes.

“Yachiyo-sama…” Aoi stuttered; a strange mix of fear and awe coursed through her veins.

The smiling maiden's eyes lit up; she chuckled. “Ah, so you’ve heard of me!”

* * *

Yachiyo had no idea who the girl was, but judging from her sleek outfit and horned headband, she belonged to one of the ninja clans that Yachiyo had grown a passing ‘acquaintance’ with back in Hinomoto. Such a sight was comforting, she supposed, in its own odd way.

“The hell is going on!?” shouted the driver. Yachiyo heard the whinny of the horse as the cart came to a stop. She smirked, grasping her sword’s hilt.

“Don’t worry yourselves—this should be quick.”

The scrape of Yachiyo’s sword seemed to snap the ninja out of her daze: she immediately hopped back off of the cart, readying herself as soon as she touched the ground. Even as she did so, though, the resolve in her face wavered.

Yachiyo smirked as she drew her sword. _Certainly a brave one, aren’t you?_

She stepped off the cart herself, slashing widely towards the girl after planting her feet into the dirt below. The girl made another hop backwards, and then drew her own sword—a katana like any other, save for the markings engraved in the blade.

In any case, Yachiyo wasn’t about to let up. She rushed towards the girl, who visibly tensed.

 _Perhaps a bit_ too _brave, little one!_

Yachiyo drew forth a flurry of slashes towards the girl, calmly unrelenting in her assault. Surprisingly enough, the ninja managed to dodge or deflect most of the attacks—but it wasn’t long before she was overwhelmed.

She yelped out when the blade finally dug itself into her shoulder, and her entire form seemed to shudder. Yachiyo pulled back, letting the girl stagger away to relative safety.

Yachiyo sighed, her smile unfaded. “You know, I really must admit—I wasn’t expecting you to manage as well as you have so far. In any case, I _did_ make a promise. So, if you intend to flee, I’d prefer you do it sooner rather than later…”

Something Yachiyo also noticed (and something she _didn’t_ feel up to admitting) was the fact that this encounter had been rather straightforward—oddly so, actually. By now, she expected to have been pelted with about half-of-a-dozen underhanded tricks, or lured into some sort of trap. Yet, here she was, standing off with the ninja on what seemed to be an even playing field.

Perhaps she could treat this as a proper duel after all…

“…On second thought…” Yachiyo shifted her position to a more defensive stance. “How about I grant you more of a chance? I’m _painfully_ bored, in any case!”

Ignoring the cries of protest from her acquaintances, Yachiyo silently awaited an answer from the girl.

She blinked, seemingly caught off-guard by such a suggestion: Yachiyo could see a shocked ‘What?’ escape her lips. A few moments passed afterwards, before another bout of resolve colored her face. As the girl drew her sword back and planted a foot into the ground, Yachiyo’s smile grew a shade brighter.

What transpired in the next few seconds, however, was far from _anything_ that the battle-hardened warrior had expected.

“Searing Claw!”

The girl’s shout was one thing—but Yachiyo had no time at all to dwell on it, thanks to the crescent of flame that then careened towards her. Yachiyo felt the heat sweep past her face as she swerved aside, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. She looked towards the girl once more, only to catch a dark blur darting towards her.

_What in the—!?_

Yachiyo was able to turn around _just_ fast enough to receive a firm strike to her _gut_ instead of her side.

* * *

The force of Aoi’s kick rippled through her leg as she whirled it back behind her. For a moment, she doubted what had just transpired—but the sight of Yachiyo’s stumbling form washed away any sense of uncertainty.

 _I…I actually_ hit _her!_ Even still, the notion came as a shock.

Aoi tried not to let her achievement get to her head, however. She hopped back, steadying herself while her foe did the same.

Oddly enough, yet another smile formed on the samurai’s face, and this one was even brighter than the last.

“Hah! Well, little one, you’re certainly a parcel of surprises, aren’t you?”

Seeming to have already shrugged off the blow, Yachiyo crouched down. Her sword, poised to strike, gleamed with the flash of lightning overhead.

“I guess I should’ve taken you seriously from the start!”

Aoi breathed out, ready to call on Phoenix’s power once again. She twisted her sword around, and—

“Aoi!”

The voice of her sensei crashed into Aoi’s mind—she looked around, spotting the dove that channeled it fluttering towards her.

“Black mana—a great cloud of it, heading this way!”

_A...cloud?_

Suddenly, a heavy gust of wind swept against Aoi—the impact felt more like a battering ram than any sort of air. Aoi was knocked right off of her feet, and fell onto her side with a thud. Barely managing to keep hold of her sword, she forced her eyes open against the gale to look up into the shadowy sky. She could indeed see a blackened swathe in the middle of the dark gray expanse, which seemed to grow with every passing moment. Something else also caught Aoi’s attention, though: At the fringe of her vision, she saw a gleam coming from the turned-over trolley.

The next few moments were a blur.

Another, more ferocious gust of wind swept against Aoi once again, and for a few seconds too long, she almost felt weightless as the ground below left her. As she tumbled in the wind, she frantically looked around to see the dove being swept away much farther than she was.

Aoi called out her sensei’s name in panic, but received no answer before a searing pain struck her back, and her vision faded entirely.


	2. Chapter 2

In what felt like the next instant, feeling returned to Aoi’s limbs. The instant after that, it returned to the rest of her body.

“Phoenix!” she sputtered, as she shot straight up. As her breathing started to slow back down to a crawl, she scanned her surroundings—which definitely came as a surprise.

A bottle sat in front of her, filled with what she could only assume were brightly glowing fireflies. It lit up the shaded clearing with a dim glow, and allowed Aoi to make out a small figure across from her…

“Aoi, are you alright?”

Once again, Phoenix’s voice derailed her train of thought. In this case, though, the interruption was much more comforting.

She turned her head to see the dove hop over towards her. She scooped it up into a hug, only to be met with a flustered chirp.

“I’d rather my vessel be unharmed as well, Aoi.”

Aoi blinked, and held the dove away from her—one of its wings looked to be wrapped with leaves.

“Uh, sorry…what’s that on your wing?”

“Perhaps _she_ would do a better job explaining than I.”

The dove motioned its head towards the figure, which revealed itself to be a smiling little girl as it stepped closer. A strangely proper bouquet of flowers crowned her head.

The girl‘s grin grew wider as her blue eyes sparkled in the light. “Hiya! Are you hurting anywhere?”

“Um, no…”

Aoi’s eyes shot open wide; she restlessly felt at her shoulder. She looked over at where her wound should have been, only to see another set of leafy wraps covering it.

“Good!”

“Did you do this?” Aoi asked, before a torrent of more questions came flooding through her lips. “ _What_ is this? Who are _you_? Where are we? Am I—”

“Aoi!”

Phoenix’s bark was accompanied with a firm peck to the hand.

“Ow!” Aoi reeled, letting the dove plop to the ground. “Sorry…” Her gaze returned to the girl, who for a moment seemed as flustered as she was.

“Woah, that’s a lot of questions,” the girl giggled, quickly bouncing back to her cheery composure. “But don’t worry, Maribelle has all the answers!”

Aoi raised an eyebrow, noting the girl’s prideful expression. “Maribelle?”

“Oh!” The girl covered her mouth—perhaps a bit too late. She chuckled, once again recovering rather quickly. “Ah, well. I guess that answers one of them!”

The girl stood proud, putting a hand on her chest. “I am Maribelle, friend of the forest and…uh…”

Maribelle shrugged. “Not much else, honestly.”

Aoi blinked. “…Oh.”

“But don’t get me wrong, it’s a pretty big deal!” the ‘friend of the forest’ hastily assured.

Aoi nodded, but couldn't help but smile a bit. “Uh, right.”

“As for your other questions: Those are bandages; yes, I put them on you and your bird; and right now we’re…”

Maribelle chuckled, shrugging again. “Well, in the woods! I don’t know what else I can tell you…”

Aoi chuckled. “That’s fine…it’s, uh, nice to meet you, Maribelle. And thanks a lot!”

Maribelle’s face lit up like a lantern, as if she’d received some sort of esteemed trophy. “You’re _very_ welcome!”

Not even a second passed, however, before her bright smile twisted into a nettled frown. “But now, _I_ have some questions to ask _you_.”

“…Huh?” To say Aoi was taken aback would be an understatement.

Maribelle pouted as she crossed her arms. “You made one heck of a ruckus earlier, just falling out of the sky like that. I think you owe some friends of mine an apology, and _me_ an explanation!”

Somehow feeling a bit guilty for something that wasn’t even her fault, Aoi couldn’t help but frown herself. “Oh. Er, sorry.”

Maribelle rolled her eyes. “No, don’t say sorry to _me_! Tell _them_!” she huffed, pointing off to the side.

Aoi looked over to see yet another surprise—a small gathering of woodland creatures. Just barely in the light of the fireflies stood a fox, a squirrel, and…

Aoi honestly wasn’t sure whether to be frightened or not. “Is…is that a bear cub?”

“Yep!” Maribelle skipped over to give the cub a warm snuggle. “His name is Mossy!”

“I…I see…” Aoi gulped, only somewhat reassured by the girl’s lack of caution.

After rubbing Mossy’s head a bit more, Maribelle scowled at Aoi once again. “Now tell them you’re sorry.” she repeated.

“Right, um…Sorry?” Aoi obliged, though she didn’t know how much the sentiment was worth.

Strangely enough, though, the animals seemed to not only understand, but _appreciate_ her apology.

Maribelle nodded, though still maintained a firm expression. “Good. Now…”

The girl didn’t miss a beat, pointing a rather accusatory finger at Aoi. “Explain yourself! Come on, fess up!”

Aoi glanced over at Phoenix’s vessel, which, after staring at Maribelle for a moment, gave a small nod of approval.

Aoi sighed. “Well, alrighty then…”

Then, after clearing her throat, the ninja began a speech of her own.

“Well, to start with, my name’s Aoi—Aoi Namura—and I am a ninja. I have no clan to call my own, but I’m a devoted disciple of Phoenix, the eternal flame.”

Aoi caught herself getting a bit prideful in her own right, before continuing on to more pressing issues. “Uh, anyway—how I ended up falling…”

As if on cue, she felt a slight pain rattle her spine. She winced a bit, but continued regardless. “Well, I was on a mission to collect something for my sensei. In the middle of it, well…”

Aoi put a finger to her chin. What _did_ happen, anyways?

“I don’t exactly _know_ , actually. I remember the wind suddenly picking up, and then seeing some sort of black cloud in the sky, and…”

Aoi looked upwards, towards the few rays of evening light that poked through the treetops. “Before I knew it, I was swept up off my feet, and then…well, then I blacked out.”

Her gaze returned to Maribelle, who (to her surprise) seemed absolutely enthralled by her report.

“Woah…” the girl whispered, her eyes sparkling with wonder. “…One question, though.”

“Mhm?”

“What’s a ninja?”

Aoi blinked. “Oh! Well…”

She closed her eyes and cleared her throat yet again, as she went on to recite the speech she’d been taught countless times.

“A ninja’s duty is to serve and protect. They take on their master’s will as their own, and carry it out the best they possibly can. They devote themselves to this cause without question, and remain loyal until the very end.”

Aoi smiled, once again taking a bit of pride in the matter. “Well, that’s the gist of it anyway!”

“Wow!” Maribelle gawked at Aoi as if this ‘ninja’ was some sort of living legend. “That sounds _really_ important!”

Aoi was touched by the praise, if not a bit flustered. “Yeah, you could say that!”

Maribelle looked off for a bit, before cocking her head to the side. “ _But_ I have another question, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Who’s ‘Phoenix’?”

Caught off guard by the question, Aoi could only stutter. “Well, I—”

“Is it your bird?” Maribelle pointed to the dove. “Is that bird your master?”

“Uh…” Aoi looked to it, and then back to Maribelle. “Yes? But also…no?”

Aoi ran a hand through her (now rather messy) hair and scratched her head. “It’s, er…kinda complicated.” Her gaze idly wandered as she worked her way to some sort of answer.

“Well, the _dove_ isn’t my master, but she talks to me _through_ the dove. Except she doesn’t really _talk_ to me, her voice just kind of pops into my head.”

Aoi smiled as she continued. “I owe a lot to my sensei—er, Phoenix, that is. She’s helped me get a lot stronger.” She nodded to assert her claim.

She reached down towards her hip. “In fact, she even gave me this—”

Aoi’s heart skipped a beat. Probably several.

_Oh no._

Aoi frantically looked around herself, her mind reeling in a frenzy. “Oh no, no, no, no, _no_! Where _is_ it!?” she futilely yelled out to no one in particular.

“I was wondering when you’d notice, honestly.” Phoenix chimed in, disappointment tangible in her voice.

“Where’s what?” Maribelle asked, intrigued by all the commotion.

“My katana!” Aoi stood up, not even flinching despite another bout of back pain. “Phoenix had it forged for me—it’s even infused with some of her own mana!”

She gripped onto her head, as if trying (and failing) to get a grasp on her own mind. “Oh, this is bad! Like, _really_ bad!”

“Wait!”

Thus, for the fourth or fifth time that day, Aoi’s reeling mind was brought to a halt. She slowly turned to Maribelle. “…Huh?”

“Did you say ‘mana’?”

After a short pause, Aoi nodded. “Yeah…why?”

Maribelle beamed and clasped her hands together. “I think I know someone who can help!”

“Wait, you _do_!?”

She nodded, crossing her arms proudly. “Mhm!”

Almost instinctively, Aoi bowed at the little girl’s feet. “Oh, _please_ ask if they can find it for me! I’m begging you!”

A few moments of quiet had passed when Aoi felt a small hand pat her head. She looked up to see Maribelle’s smiling face once again.

“Don’t you worry, little miss ninja—Maribelle will get it all taken care of!”

Aoi smiled widely, bowing again and again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you _so much_!”

Maribelle giggled. “No problem! Now give me _one_ minute!”

Finally kneeling upright, Aoi watched as Maribelle—and her entourage of animal friends—headed off past the light of the fireflies, and into the forest beyond. As the proud ninja just barely started to recover from her nervous breakdown, she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Well that was embarrassing.” Phoenix remarked, verbally piercing Aoi through the skull. “But,” she continued, “I suppose we’ve been blessed with at least one stroke of luck today.”


	3. Chapter 3

Maribelle made her way through the forest with a skip in her step and a song in her heart. Taking care of guests _and_ helping them with their problems? Oh, how _responsible_ of her!

She hopped across roots and twirled around rocks, humming to herself all the while. Shadows slinked and slithered between the trees around her, and the brief glints given off by several watching eyes colored her vision.

Before she knew it, she found herself standing face to face with a giant, stony mouth—one that jutted out from the ground like it was the jaw of a hungry beast trapped in the earth below.

Yep, she was home!

Maribelle waved goodbye to her furry friends as she stepped fearlessly into the cave, embracing the darkness until it began to retreat in the face of a cool, green glow.

The gleeful girl briefly trailed her hand along one of the walls of the passage, scattering twinkly spores into the brisk air behind her. The moss felt soft and fuzzy against her fingers, just as it always did.

As she traveled further and further, the echoes of her footsteps were swallowed up more and more by the sparkling moss surrounding her. Soon, dancing lights began to surround her as fireflies fluttered from wall to wall. Maribelle couldn’t help but frolic herself, to an invisible melody and the beat of her heart.

Soon enough, the cave walls that surrounded Maribelle retreated to reveal a grand chamber, lit up by the pirouettes of hundreds of tiny dancers. The moss that once engulfed the walls had thinned out into sparse patches, where the tired partygoers rested their weary little legs.

On top of her moss-covered throne, in the center of the dazzling dancehall, rested the great hostess of this never-ending jamboree.

“Hi, Sylvia!” Maribelle called out to her while she ran towards the mound, leaping over the shallow moat that circled it. As she steadied herself after the landing, she looked up to see a regal form begin to stir.

If nothing else, Sylvia’s appearance was unmistakable: Whether it was the way her long, elegant ears trailed off into longer, daintier vines; or the way her wavy mane flowed from green to purple down the back of her tall neck—she didn’t look like anything else Maribelle had ever seen in all her life.

It was comforting, in a way; and honestly, Maribelle had always found her pretty.

Sylvia stretched her vast wings outwards, sending an equally vast cloud of spores flying into the air around her. She yawned, before finally adjusting herself to face Maribelle with a warm, gentle smile.

“Why hello, Maribelle. You seem to be as lively as ever.”

“Mhm!” Maribelle nodded.

“I see. And how are those guests of yours doing? Are they in good health?”

“Yep! Happy and healthy—well, not _all_ happy…”

“Oh?” Sylvia raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

Maribelle nodded again— _seriously_ , this time. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You’re good at sensing mana, right?”

“Indeed I am. Why do you ask?”

“Well, one of those guests lost her…‘katana’, I think—whatever _that_ is. She said that her master forged it for her, and put some mana into it.”

“And you’re hoping that I can find it by searching for that trace of mana?”

A self-assured grin graced Maribelle’s face. “Yep! So, can you?”

Sylvia seemed to think for a bit as her eyes idly scanned the chamber. After a hum-filled moment, she returned her gaze to Maribelle. “Well, I suppose I could try. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Great!”

Maribelle turned and started skipping off towards the tunnel. “Well, I’ve got my guests to attend to!” She glanced back at Sylvia, who was making her way off of the mound—graceful as always.

Sylvia looked up at Maribelle, not even faltering in her steps. “Be safe!”

Maribelle waved back, offering one last “thank you” before finally leaving the chamber.

Oh, how responsible indeed.

* * *

Before long, Aoi had found herself staring into the glistening jar before her. She watched intently as the bugs inside fluttered and flickered around, and was all but mesmerized by their almost-surreal motions.

Soon enough, though, her trance was broken by a sing-songy voice. “I’m back!”

Aoi looked towards Maribelle as the girl skipped into view. “Oh, hey!” she replied, her eyes lighting up in anxious anticipation. “So, what’d they say?”

“She said that she’d look for it, and that it shouldn’t be too hard for her to find!”

Aoi sighed as the last of her plight’s weight finally left her shoulders. “Thanks again, Maribelle—really, I owe you one.”

“Oh, it’s fine!” Maribelle dismissed the notion with a wave and a smile—that is, before she seemed to consider it, putting a finger to her chin in thought. “Actually…”

The girl plopped herself down onto the ground, sitting on the opposite side of the lantern from Aoi. “Maybe you do!”

“Huh?”

“ _If_ you owed me one, would you tell me more about what ninjas do?”

“Oh!” Aoi blinked—as innocuous as the question was, it had caught her off guard. “Well…sure, I guess, but—”

“Then let’s just say you _do_ owe me one!”

“ _Oh_ …well, okay then!” Aoi chuckled, as the realization finally hit her.

She then cleared her throat, preparing it for what would be another short ramble as Maribelle eagerly leaned in.

“Well, ninja like me are pretty much trained to work undercover…”

“‘Undercover’? What’s that mean?” Maribelle interjected, with a curious cock of the head.

“Oh, uh…it means being sneaky about things, basically!”

“Oh, okay! Go on!”

And so she did. “Okay! So, as I was saying, we basically serve whoever our master is while trying to be as sneaky about it as we need to be—a lot of the time, that means that no-one should know we were even there to begin with!”

“Woah! So do you disappear or something?”

“Well, er, not exactly…”

Aoi was about to explain the intricacies of the several stealth-related arts and disciplines that she’d been trained in, before she realized (in a rare moment of foresight) that she probably wouldn’t have been the best at actually spelling it all out—especially to someone like Maribelle.

She looked off into space, as if the forest around her held some sort of solution to her dilemma.

Which, strangely enough, it actually _did_ in a way.

Aoi’s eyes lit up slightly; a fond memory began to worm its way out of the back of her mind. “Say, Maribelle…”

“Huh?”

“How about I tell you a story, to show you what I mean?”

Aoi swore that a girl that small shouldn’t have had lungs big enough to gasp so deeply.

Maribelle leaned forward, eyes wide with an avid impatience. “Oh, _please_ do!”

Aoi nodded. “Okay then! Now, let’s see…”

Aoi took a moment to make sure she remembered it all—but then again, how could she not?

Soon enough, the ninja began to tell her tale.

* * *

“So, long ago, there was a humble shinobi—er, a ninja, that is—who served a wise and well-respected lord. The lord himself had a lot of respect for the shinobi—but his son barely had any, because he didn’t see him actually _do_ all that much.

“Years passed, and eventually, the lord passed away. Soon after taking his place, his son wanted to prove his worth as a successor in the eyes of the people—and he knew just the way to do it.

“Growing up, he’d heard stories of a vile, four-armed beast that made its home in the mountains near the northern end of his domain, just past a huge, fiend-infested forest. The way he saw it, if he was able to make his way through the forest and bring back the monster’s fangs, he would be a hero—and maybe even go down in history across the land.

“On the day the new lord started his journey, the humble shinobi approached him, and asked if he was sure about what he wanted to do. The lord laughed him off—of course the ninja couldn’t understand the resolve or strength needed to go through with such a thing. And just like that, the lord set off towards the monster’s lair.

“The journey was long and tough, but the lord never gave in. He survived the cruel wilderness, fought off the fiends of the dark forest, and soon enough, he was at the mouth of the savage creature’s den.

“The lord smirked as the beast woke up from its slumber—instead of the four arms spoken of in legend, the creature only had two. Regardless, the fight between them was intense—fiendish claws clashed with a spirited blade through the rest of the night. At the end of it all, though, the lord stood tall, proud in his victory.

“The lord returned to his people with the fangs to prove his victory, and got all the fame and recognition that he was looking for. Having proved himself, he then went on to bask in the glory and respect that he‘d always wanted.

“One day, though, as he was walking through the palace’s garden, the lord spotted the humble shinobi watering the plants—and in that moment, he noticed something about the unassuming ninja that he hadn’t since returning from his journey: He wore an eyepatch over his left eye.

“The lord asked about the eyepatch, and the ninja simply told him that it was to cover a wound he’d received in battle.

“The lord angrily demanded to know what battle the shinobi had fought without his knowledge—to know what foe dared threaten his domain.

“And the shinobi replied that the only threat that he had to fight against was the lord himself.

“The lord, who was _furious_ at that point, demanded an explanation—to which the shinobi asked a question.

“He asked the lord why he didn’t tell his subjects that he’d faced a beast with only two arms.

“The lord’s face went pale with shock—and couldn’t come up with any response as the shinobi went on explaining himself.

“Throughout the lord’s entire journey, he had been aided by the man he had thought so lowly of. The shinobi lured deer towards his campsites when he had run low on food, fought off hordes of fiends in the forest so that he wouldn’t get overwhelmed, and cut off two of the great beast’s arms before the lord had even stepped in the cave—that last part was how he hurt his eye.

“In that moment, the lord bowed down to the shinobi, grateful for his help and deeply sorry that he’d ever doubted the man. He offered to give the shinobi the recognition that he deserved…

“But the ninja declined, saying that he was only doing his duty—to both the lord _and_ his father.

“Years passed, and the lord went on to keep the glory that he thought he had ‘earned’—but he knew the truth, and made sure that no successor of his would forget it. From that day in the garden until his death, the lord understood why his father had respected the shinobi as much as he did.”

* * *

Aoi caught herself smiling as she finished the story—she’d almost forgotten how much it inspired her.

She looked to Maribelle, whose eyes twinkled in awe. “ _Wow_ …”

“I know, right? A mentor of mine used to tell me that story all the time.”

“And it _really_ happened?”

Aoi nodded. “Yep! At least, that’s what she said.”

“Woah…that’s _amazing_!”

Maribelle clasped her hands together, leaning in even closer. “Do you have any more stories? Please, tell me more!”

Aoi was a bit taken aback—but nevertheless, she just so happened to be in the mood to gush. “Uh…sure! Okay!”

“Yay!”

* * *

The rest of the evening was spent recalling tales Aoi had held dear to her since childhood: The story of a kunoichi who faked her own death in order to unravel an attempted poisoning, the legend of a ninja who disguised himself in order to fool his lord’s would-be kidnappers, and other such larger-than-life chronicles of danger and duty.

The retellings and ensuing chatter lasted until each girl was finally ambushed by the exhaustion that had been building within them throughout the day’s events—and by the time Maribelle’s head rested against the body of one of her furry friends, it was filled with thoughts of various exotic thrills that she had went without knowing of for _far_ too long.

By nightfall, the only one still awake among the group was the extravagantly plumed dove that served as Phoenix’s vessel. It stared at the captive fireflies, which continued to fly around in the bottle in front of it with seemingly limitless amounts of quiet energy.

Suddenly, the dove turned its head, gazing intently into the forest beyond.

The bushes past the clearing’s edge quietly rustled—more quietly than they should have, Phoenix noted—as a tall, gracile, and depressingly familiar form emerged from the shadows of the forest.

Sylvia stared down at the dove, holding a curved sword by its hilt—the runes engraved in its naked blade gleamed in the light of the fireflies.

She spat the sword out onto the ground, before giving the dove a calm glare—though anger was evident neither in her features nor her voice. “You’re welcome, Phoenix.”

The dove rolled its eyes, and returned its gaze to the fireflies.

“What? Is speaking with me simply _beneath_ you now? Or have you not picked up on that trick of mine as well as you thought you would?”

No response was given, other than a slight ruffling of feathers.

It was then Sylvia’s turn to roll her eyes—albeit in a slightly more playful manner. “Hmph. Fine.”

She took a step towards the dove, and then pressed a glowing claw gently against its temple. The two sat in silence for a few moments, before Sylvia turned and took a stride across the clearing. She curled up around the sleeping Maribelle, and stared at the dove once again.

The silence of the forest continued to smother the two, unperturbed by the ensuing conversation.

“Thank you,” Phoenix spoke up, while the dove almost seemed to sigh.

“I see you have an attendant. Too busy grooming yourself to deal with your own dirty work?”

“It _is_ nice to have an extra pair of hands—especially when the alternative is leaving a fabled magical wonder completely unguarded. Pardon me if I’m wrong, but the only value this particular forest has is sentimental.”

“Well, it must have _some_ value if _you’ve_ come to visit. I couldn’t imagine that you’ve been longing to see _me_.”

“Very funny, Sylvia. We both know it wouldn’t have been my own doing that led me to you.”

“On that note, what _were_ you up to before that unfortunate little accident?”

“Simply doing a bit of an investigation. Nothing of your concern, I’m sure.”

“It depends.”

Sylvia’s stare grew more intense, while the dove’s went unchanged.

“Did it have anything at all to do with black mana?”

The dove stared at her blankly, while Phoenix scoffed. “Trust me, Sylvia—it’s as sudden a concern to me as it is to you.”

“Hm.” Sylvia raised a somewhat-doubtful eyebrow. “I see.”

“Although,” Phoenix continued, “I’d imagine that it would be a more potent concern in your case…”

The dove’s gaze turned to the tranquil, sleeping form of Maribelle. The girl unconsciously snuggled against Sylvia, smiling in her sleep.

Sylvia looked towards her, and then back at the dove with a stern glare. “Indeed it is—that is, if you’re saying that _you_ wouldn’t care if that girl there is harmed.”

She pointed towards Aoi with a claw as sharp as her tone. “I hope you’re aware that I could have simply left both her _and_ that dove of yours to die.”

The dove simply stared back at her, with a painfully passive expression.

“Oh, _please_ , Sylvia.” Phoenix gently chided. “Your heart is much too tender for such a thing. What’s next? Feeding them to the wolves?”

Sylvia reeled and grit her teeth—Phoenix’s snide chuckle burned into her mind.

“And I _especially_ doubt you’d want to break the heart of that precious daughter of yours.”

Sylvia bared her fangs, growling quietly—the first time she had uttered a sound since the discourse had begun. “Phoenix, stop it.”

“You were the one who made that flimsy threat, dear. Be glad I didn’t take it seriously.”

Sylvia opened her mouth to respond in a more ‘tangible’ manner—before she stopped, and cut herself off with a deep sigh.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon enough—that is, as soon as a certain pupil of mine makes a _full_ recovery.”

The dove nodded its head towards Aoi, who was splayed out haphazardly on the forest floor in her clashingly peaceful slumber.

Sylvia looked towards her, and then back at the dove. “Fine. As soon as she wakes up, I’ll heal her—and then you’ll be on your way?”

“Provided nothing else interrupts, yes.”

Sylvia let her head rest against the ground with a snort. “Alright then. I’ll see you again in the morning?”

“Perhaps.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes one last time, before closing them for the night.

The dove stretched out its wings one more time, before settling down to sleep.

* * *

As Phoenix let the dove get its _own_ rest, she stretched her arms out and observed her surroundings. The youthful springs around her bubbled on, giving an always-familiar warmth to the otherwise-cool night air.

Phoenix looked up towards the rising moon, putting her head in her hands with a sigh.

“Well, this is certainly a bother…” she muttered to herself.


	4. Chapter 4

Aoi’s eyes fluttered open to the sight of an odd, green sort of roof. As the wave of groggy confusion struck her, she felt at the bed she’d apparently fallen asleep on.

…Which, surprisingly enough, didn’t feel like much of a bed at all.

Aoi sat up as the gears in her head started to turn every which way—only to be interrupted by a pain that shot down her back not even a second later.

She winced. _Oh, right._

Aoi lightly massaged her back, and let out a deep sigh. She looked around the clearing—yep, everything was there: her master’s dove; the jar of fireflies; Maribelle and that big, green fox she was sleeping with…

_Wait a second…_

Aoi rubbed her eyes—the back pain told her she wasn’t dreaming, but _clearly_ she also wasn’t seeing things straight.

…No, she definitely was.

Aoi’s eyes widened. She looked towards the dove and gently shook it awake.

Perhaps not as gently as she should have…

* * *

The dove awoke with a start, screeching into the air as it took off in a frenzy. Aoi fell back, crying out in yet another bout of pain as she hit the suddenly-not-so-soft ground. This commotion, in turn, woke Sylvia from her own slumber, as she groggily raised her head…

Just in time for the dove to fly into it.

Sylvia reeled, letting out a yowl of her own as she jolted to her senses. Maribelle, thusly, was rattled awake herself—and her eyes shot open to see a white-and-red blur careening right towards her. She screamed, and scrambled back against Sylvia’s tail—which then swept out from under her as Sylvia herself jolted yet again thanks to the sudden sensation.

By the time Phoenix had taken control of her vessel, the clearing was in chaos. The dove looked towards Aoi as its panicked motions suddenly stopped.

“Aoi!” Phoenix called out to the girl’s frantic mind. “What in the world is—”

She cut herself off as Aoi feverishly pointed ahead—Aoi herself wasn’t able to get anything more than a stammer past her own lips. The dove looked in that direction; its gaze fell on a rapidly blinking Sylvia and a wide-eyed Maribelle.

In that moment, Phoenix was convinced that she had a fairly accurate idea of what had just transpired in the past thirty seconds—and upon realizing that her vessel had taken flight, gathered that Sylvia had bestowed another one of her blessings the night before, only for it to blow back into her face—this time, literally.

“Ah.”

As the dove perched on the jar of fireflies, it looked back towards Aoi. “Well, Aoi, this is Sylvia.” Phoenix explained, as the dove motioned its head. “Feel free to say hello.”

Aoi blinked, before slowly looking towards Sylvia. “Er…hi?”

“…Hello.” Sylvia simply stared back, before glaring at the dove.

Before _she_ could demand an explanation, though, Maribelle demanded one herself. “Wait—Sylvia, since when were _you_ here?”

“Oh! Last night, actually. On that note…”

Sylvia pointed towards the sword that lay beside Aoi. “There’s your…katana, was it?”

Aoi looked down at it—and she was fairly sure that her heart skipped another beat.

“Oh!” She picked it up, looking over its blade. “Yeah, this is it!”

Aoi put it back into its sheath, smiling at the familiar weight. “Thank you—”

She then suddenly remembered what exactly was so odd about the situation.

“Wait…” The gears in Aoi’s head tumbled and turned yet again as her gaze narrowed itself onto the duo across from her. “Maribelle…”

Her eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “That ‘friend’ of yours…is a _dragon_!?”

Maribelle raised an eyebrow, wondering in the back of her mind if that was a trick question. “Sylvia? Uh, yeah.” She then narrowed her eyes and took on a more dubious tone. “Why do you ask?”

Aoi recoiled as she blurted out a response. “Oh, there isn’t anything wrong with that! It’s just, er…surprising.”

“Surprising? Why?”

“Well, I’d say that’s enough idle chatter.” Sylvia interrupted, softly nudging Maribelle aside as she stood. “Aoi, you have something to attend to, don’t you?”

Aoi gulped, still a bit intimidated by her presence. “Er, yeah, I do…”

She got to her feet, stretching out once again before she received yet another painful reminder of her condition. “Oof, right…this bad back of mine’ll make that a bit harder, though.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I’d be happy to help.”

“Oh, really?” Aoi felt a wave of relief wash over her aching spine.

“Indeed. I’ll just need you to lie down for me—on your stomach, ideally.”

“Oh.” Aoi raised an eyebrow curiously—though she did what was requested of her. “Okay…”

Sylvia approached Aoi (while ignoring a certain bird’s unamused gaze), and put a bright claw onto Aoi’s back. Aoi herself felt a slight pinch as the claw pressed down onto her—but just as quickly as the sensation came forth, it was swept away by a wave of soothing relief that coursed through her body. Aoi was forced to hold back a sigh, lest she make the situation any more awkward.

A few moments passed before Sylvia stepped back. “Alright—that should do it.” she said, casting a stern glance at the dove.

Said dove seemed as unperturbed as before, if not slightly relieved.

Aoi got to her feet and stretched herself out, feeling strangely invigorated. “Wow, I actually feel…better! Well, better than before, I mean.”

Sylvia put on a warm smile. “I’m glad—oh, and feel free to take off those bandages. I’m sure that wound should have healed by now.”

“Oh, right!”

Aoi fiddled around with the leafy wrappings on her shoulder, eventually managing to take them off. Much to her surprise, the wound had certainly healed—to the point where, if she didn’t know better, she wouldn’t have thought it was there to begin with.

“Woah…”

“Well, you’d best be on your way then.” Sylvia cooed, as she sat beside an oddly silent Maribelle.

“Right…” Aoi replied, looking around into the forest.

“Don’t worry,” Phoenix assured her, “we should be able to scout out the road from here.”

Aoi looked towards the dove and nodded, before turning to the two forest denizens.

She bowed in complete earnest, clasping her hands together. “Thank you both for the hospitality!”

Sylvia was visibly taken aback; Maribelle simply looked on, more concerned by the second.

Aoi turned back around as the dove perched on her shoulder. She waved one last goodbye, before beginning her journey into the woods.

“Wait!”

The sound of Maribelle’s voice pierced the silence like a dagger. Aoi, stunned, looked back to see the girl dash across the clearing.

Though it was what Maribelle said next, while she desperately grabbed hold of Aoi’s waist, that rendered the ninja—as well as everyone else present— _speechless_.

“I want to come with you!”


	5. Chapter 5

To say Aoi was flustered was an understatement: She was pretty sure she’d be rooted to the spot regardless of Maribelle’s grip. She looked desperately between her master’s vessel and her captor’s ‘friend’, but both of them seemed as surprised as she was.

When all hope for outside help was lost, Aoi instead turned her thoughts inward, scouring her mind for any sort of response as she looked back down towards the girl that clung to her.

“Uh, what?”

Well, it _was_ a response.

Maribelle’s eyes met her own, and they were as wide and pleading as she’d feared.

“You heard me!” she shot back. “I want to come with you, on all your amazing ninja adventures!”

‘Amazing’—that word in particular gave Aoi pause. Sure, many a shinobi had gone down in legend for their unparalleled skills and incredible feats, but _her_? _She_ hadn’t really done anything amazing in her own right—at least, not anything that she could think of.

“Er, I…”

“Maribelle!” Sylvia sternly stammered. “Stop being ridiculous and let her go!”

Maribelle barked back at the dragon, her words accompanied by a tearful glare. “Only if you let _me_ go with her!”

Sylvia seemed to freeze up, her eyes wide with what Aoi could only assume was a second bout of shock.

That wasn’t good.

Finally, the dragon spoke up again—this time, hurt was evident in her meeker tone. “Maribelle, please—”

“I know, I know: ‘You don’t know what’s out there’, right?”

And just like that, the dragon’s roar was silenced again.

Maribelle finally released Aoi as she turned to face the stunned Sylvia. “The thing is, I _want_ to know what’s out there! I’ve _always_ wanted to know—and after yesterday, I only want to know _more_!”

Aoi gulped down a sudden pang of guilt: Yeah, all this was definitely her fault.

“I don’t _hate_ living here,” Maribelle continued, “I really don’t. But what I _do_ hate is this nagging feeling that I’m missing out on… _whatever it is_ I’m missing out on.”

She wiped her eyes as her voice only slightly wavered. “So, can I please go with Aoi? I won’t give them any trouble—I promise!”

As much as Aoi wanted to come up with a response that would instantly diffuse the silent tension in the air, she knew all too well that she wasn’t smart enough for that—so she just shut herself up before she made anything worse.

Sylvia’s gaze trailed down towards the forest floor, and stayed there for a few long seconds. Finally, she sighed, and looked back up at Maribelle. She didn’t look shocked or angry—in fact, the dragon seemed eerily calm compared to just a moment earlier.

All sense of desperation had left her voice once she spoke again. “Maribelle…I understand how strongly you feel about this, but…”

She stood up, and motioned towards the forest behind her. “At least let me show you something, before you do anything else.”

Aoi looked down at Maribelle, who in turn briefly looked off in thought. After a moment, the girl simply responded with a stern nod and a huffy “okay”.

Maribelle stepped towards Sylvia as the dragon sauntered into the woods—before she went beyond the edge of the clearing, though, she turned and pointed at Aoi.

“Don’t you go anywhere while I’m gone!”

Aoi, once again, couldn’t figure out a response to that—at least, not before Maribelle had left.

After taking a moment to let the silence sink in, Aoi turned to the dove on her shoulder. “Well, uh… _should_ we?”

The dove simply stared straight ahead, with no response from Phoenix.

“…Phoenix?”

“No.” Her abrupt response startled Aoi slightly. “I’d like to see what comes of this first.”

“Um…okay then.”

* * *

Maribelle, admittedly, had no idea what Sylvia was up to—her best friend had never tricked or lied to her before…at least, she didn’t _think_ so.

Maribelle shook those no-good thoughts out of her head—no, Sylvia would never lie.

But in that case, what _was_ it that she wanted to show to her?

Maribelle followed Sylvia for what felt like forever, looking around the forest for any sort of sign or clue—alas, she couldn’t find any by the time Sylvia stopped walking.

Maribelle stopped in turn, only more confused than before. She was about to finally ask the questions that had been on her mind for the past something-or-other minutes—but before she could, Sylvia finally turned to her and spoke.

“Maribelle…as hard as it is for me to say this, I feel like I owe you an apology.”

Maribelle blinked. “Huh? An apology?”

“Yes, indeed…Maribelle, I must admit—though it pains me to do so—that I haven’t been doing the best job in raising you.”

Maribelle blinked again: Clearly, she was wrong about the lying thing.

“What?! What’re you talking about, Sylvia? You’ve been taking care of me for as long as I can remember!”

Sylvia sighed. “Indeed…indeed I have. However, my care may not be—no, it _isn’t_ —all that you’ll need in your life. I was foolish to delude myself into thinking that, especially for all this time.”

Each word that Sylvia said only confused Maribelle further—but before she could ask any more questions, Sylvia continued.

“Maribelle, you are a human child. It isn’t… _natural_ for you to be kept away from others of your kind—especially for so long, and from such a young age. I am deeply sorry to you for doing just that, and feel that I should make up for it. Therefore…”

Sylvia smiled at Maribelle—though something about the smile was…different, compared to the countless other times she’d seen it.

“I actually agree with you, Maribelle—you _should_ go.”

In that moment, something gripped at Maribelle’s heart. It was an unfamiliar pain; different than the ones that ailed her whenever she’d scratched her knee, bruised her arm, or eaten a type of berry she wasn’t supposed to. She couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was, but she started to ask herself: Was this really what she wanted?

“Uh…really?” She asked, just to make sure she wasn’t hearing things.

Sylvia nodded. “Yes, Maribelle—and yes, I’m sure.”

“…Oh…”

Maribelle’s voice started to weaken, despite her best efforts to prevent it. “I mean…I _could_ stay here…for a little while longer, at least.”

Sylvia sighed. “No, Maribelle—I insist. This is something that you _need_.”

Then, she reached out—and carefully wiped away a tear Maribelle didn’t even know was there.

Maribelle’s breath hitched; as her eyes began to mist. “I…I…” She chuckled lightly, in an attempt to mask her sniffling with another sound. “…I’m serious, you know!”

“As am I, Maribelle.”

Maribelle blinked away the tears as best she could, looking down at the floor. “Oh…okay…”

Suddenly, Maribelle felt herself being pulled forward—the force was gentle, but it still nearly swept her off her feet.

Her eyes shot wide open, just before she was pressed against a swathe of soft warmth.

Maribelle went limp for a moment, before she shoved her face into Sylvia’s fur. She simply stood there, gulping down the lumps in her throat and pushing back the tears as best she could—long enough to ask a question that she had been holding in for what felt like forever.

“I…I can come back, right?”

Sylvia chuckled. “Why, of course—but please, Maribelle, at least _try_ …”

Maribelle sniffled for just a bit longer, before she resolved to muster up as much of a smile as she could.

“Y-yeah…” She pushed herself off of Sylvia, and met her friend’s much-sturdier smile with her own. “…Okay…”

“Thank you, Maribelle.”

After a moment of silence between the two, Sylvia raised a claw into the air. As Maribelle wiped her eyes, she could see it begin to glow with a bright, green light—she almost recognized it from the many times she’d been relieved of her injuries, but something about it struck her as… _different_.

“Now, as for what it is that I wanted to show you…”

* * *

“Aoi, you really aren’t that hard to read.”

“Fine, fine!”

Aoi currently felt torn about how quickly Phoenix had spotted the road. On one hand, it meant that it wasn’t too far away, and that it wouldn’t take long to get back on track (relatively speaking). On the other hand, her sensei had happened to remember something—something that Aoi had _really_ hoped would stay forgotten.

Aoi sighed. “So, you know that samurai that I was fighting yesterday?”

“‘Samurai’? You’re referring to that woman, yes?”

“Yeah, her.”

“Do you _know_ her?”

“Well, yeah—I mean, no, not _personally_ , but…”

“But?”

Aoi sighed off into space, idly twisting a blade of grass around in her fingers. “Her name is Yachiyo—at least, that’s the name she goes by. She’s…well, kind of infamous where I come from.”

“Infamous? What for?”

“Well, she’s a _scarily_ strong swordswoman, for one—so strong that entire armies start shaking in their boots at the sight of her! Rumor has it that she once took out a band of mercenaries who were brave enough to try and assassinate her—and all without getting a scratch!”

“That does sound formidable…if not suspiciously vague.”

“Well, I guess it _is_ just a rumor, but…”

“I see. Well, have you seen any of this supposed strength for yourself? Or is all this just hearsay?”

Aoi suddenly began to feel rather stupid—well, more stupid than usual, anyway. “…Well, when you put it that way…”

“No, no, I’m sure there’s at least _some_ merit to her reputation, if our encounter was anything to go off of. I have one question, though…”

“Yeah?”

“Why is she _here_?”

Aoi shrugged. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to see her any more than you were.”

“Hm…I see. Well, in that case, let’s just hope we won’t have to deal with her again.”

The bushes opposite the duo rustled, interrupting their conversation. Aoi looked to see Maribelle striding back into the clearing, followed closely by Sylvia.

Aoi raised an eyebrow: something about Maribelle’s spirited smile struck her as…off. “Uh…”

“Yep!” Maribelle herself cut her off with a nod. “I’m ready to go.”

“Oh.”

Admittedly, it took a bit longer for Aoi to process that statement than it did for her to respond to it.

“Wait, _really_?”

“Yes, really.” Sylvia confirmed. “Maribelle will accompany you on your travels—assuming that you have no qualms with it.”

Aoi blinked. “Well, I…”

She glanced at the dove, who was currently looking back at her.

It nodded. Well, that was that.

“Well…sure, I guess!” Aoi glanced back at Maribelle with a nervous smile—the girl beamed in return, and silently stepped over to her.

“Wonderful.” Sylvia cooed, before casting an odd glare at the dove. “ _Please_ do take care of her.”

Aoi glanced at it again, and wondered if there was something she’d been missing. “Er, got it.”

* * *

After not getting a response from Phoenix, Aoi cleared her throat and bowed once more. She thanked Sylvia for her hospitality once again, and set off into the woods with Maribelle in tow.

As she followed Aoi into the forest, Maribelle waved one last goodbye to Sylvia—though she hoped that it wouldn’t be _the_ last.

Sylvia saw a stray tear drift down Maribelle’s upturned cheek. She sighed—truthfully, she admired the girl’s resolve. Maribelle was much braver than the oh-so-mighty dragon that she looked up to—and, as much as she hated to admit it, Phoenix had helped Sylvia realize that.

_“She_ is _missing out on quite a lot, you know…”_

Those were the words that Phoenix had put into her mind a short while ago—and the truth of that notion stung. Here she was, keeping a human child away from the world she was meant to be a part of, all for the sake of “protecting” her—at least, that’s what she told herself. In truth, what she sought to protect most was not Maribelle herself, but her _innocence_. Sylvia had feared that, were Maribelle to ever be exposed to the blights and horrors of the world beyond their wood, that she would begin to adopt them herself.

In all honesty, that fear had never actually left Sylvia, even as she watched Maribelle disappear into the forest.

Hopefully, though, thanks to her parting gift and what little guidance she’d be able to give, the fate that Sylvia dreaded would never come to pass.

And hopefully, Phoenix wouldn’t have the child meet a fate even worse than that.


	6. Chapter 6

Nicolas wasn’t exactly one for surprises. Well, to be more precise, he wasn’t one for _most_ surprises. He was always eager to learn, yes—and new tidbits of trivia certainly tickled his fancy—but he found anything that served to throw a wrench in his plans or steer his day off course to be…much less than pleasant, generally speaking.

That said, receiving an urgent letter from his former professor was one thing—and said letter being a written request for his assistance on a “massive project” was another.

The following morning had been rather hectic: Between packing his things, buying extra supplies, and finding someone both able and willing to escort him to his destination, his hands were the fullest they’d ever been in a long time. Once he and his bodyguard had set off, though, things quieted down quite a bit…in more than one sense of the word.

Nicolas idly looked around the landscape that surrounded them. Trees stood tall on either side of the road, almost masking the slopes from which they grew—vibrant cedars, from the looks of it, but botany wasn’t his area of expertise.

Nicolas then turned his gaze to the sparsely clouded sky above.

He raised an eyebrow: The clouds were indeed few and far between—at least, for what he could see. An odd convenience, he supposed, given that the weather had been rather cloudy—and recently, somewhat stormy—for the duration of his stay back in Brotby.

Nicolas sighed. “Good weather for travel, isn’t it?” he muttered (mostly to himself).

“I suppose so.”

Nicolas looked over to his escort—truthfully, he wasn’t expecting a response from him, given just how little the mercenary had spoken ever since they met.

Even so, the spearman didn’t seem to commit to the task of talking back: he continued to silently scan the road ahead with a listless gaze, scratching at his dark hair every-so-often.

While Nicolas wouldn’t call himself a social butterfly under any circumstances, in that moment he felt an awkward compulsion to at least _try_ to continue the conversation. “So—er, Jakob, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Right…so, is stormy weather normal in this region, or did I just pick a poor time to stay?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh—you’re not from around here?”

“No.”

A few seconds passed before Nicolas realized that Jakob had said all he wanted to on the matter. “…Ah.”

Nicolas sighed, adjusting his glasses as the duo began to turn a bend in the path. “You really aren’t all that talkative, are you?”

“…Sorry.”

Nicolas blinked: Once again, the response caught him off guard. He glanced at Jakob, who was—much to Nicolas’ astonishment—actually expressing something other than stoic indifference.

The initial shock transformed into guilt soon after he’d fully registered the spearman’s frown.

“Oh! Er, no, I mean…” Nicolas blurted, before trying to improvise his words into some sort of consoling coherence. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!”

The stretch of silence that followed stung Nicolas far worse than any that came before it. He shook his head and sighed. _Perhaps_ I _should keep my mouth shut._

As the road straightened out once again, though, Nicolas found a distraction from his mild bout of self-disgust. An odd sight caught his eye: What looked to be a trolley, hoisted onto its side, sat abandoned in the middle of the trail.

That wasn’t strange enough on its own, but what really caught Nicolas’ interest was the odd glint that shone from beside it…

* * *

While Aoi didn’t _entirely_ know what she expected to be doing that day, it was certainly a far cry from giving anyone a piggyback ride.

Or taking someone from their home.

Or becoming responsible for their safety.

Or walking into a tree.

Aoi stumbled back; the newfound weight on her shoulders almost toppled her over completely. She rubbed her head, quietly almost-cursing under her breath.

“Uh, are you okay?” Maribelle asked—she sounded just as confused as she did concerned.

Aoi gave an awkward(ly forced) chuckle in response. “Yeah, I’m fine…uh, how about you?”

“Sure, I’m okay—but I’m not the one who just got a faceful of bark.”

“Good point.”

Aoi took a breath before moving onward—thankfully, she hadn’t lost sight of the dove. As she walked, though, her mind wandered back to a single word.

“Responsible”: Was she really? Sure, she (kind of) knew how to take care of a bird, but _this_ was different. Or, at least, Aoi thought it was.

Was it, though?

Before Aoi had a chance to spiral again, Phoenix gave her something else to be confused about.

“Aoi, stay calm, but we might have a bit of a problem.”

* * *

“And you’re _sure_ you have no clue as to what this could be?”

“Not a one.”

“I see…”

Nicolas eyed the deceptively hefty gemstone as he turned it about in his hands. It gave off a curious warmth—one that he could’ve sworn almost pulsed in the same way a heart beat. He held it up towards the sky, and the sun’s rays only brightened the jewel’s scarlet hue.

“Fascinating…” He muttered—and that it was, especially considering the odd place he’d found it. The gem was magical, he supposed—possibly imbued with flame mana specifically. Other than that, though, he was at a loss as to its nature or origins.

A firm nudge to the side derailed Nicolas’ train of thought. “Huh?”

He looked towards Jakob, about to ask what it was that demanded his attention. However, he held his tongue once he saw the spearman silently motion towards the forest, weapon at the ready.

A certain tension overtook Nicolas as he, in turn, shifted his gaze.

That same tension diffused—though only slightly—as his eyes then fell upon a girl who stood silently at the edge of the road.

She looked to be about his age—give or take a year—with blonde hair and amber eyes. On a more pertinent note, however, she was dressed in what appeared to be some exotic sort of light armor. _Most_ pertinently, Nicolas saw what looked like a sword resting sheathed at the girl’s hip.

As far as surprises went, Nicolas had been having a fair-enough day so far. That said, he wasn’t yet sure of how he felt about this surprise in particular.


	7. Chapter 7

The silence between the three travellers was suffocating.

Aoi looked between the shining gem held away from her, and the sharp speartip pointed towards her. The full weight of the “problem” Phoenix had warned her about started to take hold in her mind.

Nicolas, for as well as he could analyze the situation, struggled to formulate an appropriate course of action—or any course of action, for that matter.

Jakob eyed the girl in anticipation, priming himself to catch any signs of an attack. A small part of him—one that yearned for him to get back in his element—almost hoped that she would make a move.

Incidentally, Aoi was indeed the first to act—albeit, in a different way than that small part of Jakob had hoped.

Aoi slowly raised her hands into the air, stepped back, and made every effort she could not to say anything stupid.

“Uh…hi!” Apparently, that meant barely saying anything at all. Fair enough, she supposed.

Nicolas and Jakob glanced towards each other—the girl’s awkward gesture had all but diminished any sense of threat that she gave off.

Her subsequent tumble back down the slope went on to dissolve it completely.

Jakob raised an eyebrow and lowered his weapon, while Nicolas readjusted his glasses. Between them both, the scholar was (once again) the one to speak up first—not that he had much to say. “Er…well then.”

Nicolas stepped towards the edge of the path, gazing down the incline at what he expected to be the girl’s sprawled form.

And indeed, there she was, splayed out clumsily on the grass. However, at her side knelt another, noticeably younger girl. The child looked back at an even-more-confused Nicolas with a pair of wide, blue eyes of her own.

Aoi groaned as she began to get to her feet. Her short trip had left her a bit dazed, but she was able to recognize a somewhat-familiar voice asking a somewhat-familiar question. “Yeah, I’m fine—”

Aoi blinked—it was then that she realized who that voice belonged to.

“Maribelle?” She looked towards the girl in question, who (after her own moment of shock) giggled back with a sheepish glance.

“Eh-heh…sorry…”

“I apologize, Aoi,” Phoenix sighed, while her vessel took a seat on Aoi’s shoulder, “but there wasn’t much I could do to stop her, considering that she can’t hear me.”

“Oh, right…” Aoi cursed herself for letting that fact slip her mind yet again.

Nicolas rubbed the back of his neck, finally mustering enough nerve to call out to the two. “Er…is everything alright down there?”

The armored blonde looked up towards him, and nodded as she stood in front of the blue-eyed child. “Uh, yeah, we’re okay!”

The child then chimed in herself, while she quickly made herself the defender instead of the defended. “No thanks to you!” she spat, much to Nicolas’ surprise.

“Pardon?” the scholar stuttered, as he hastily tried to figure out what he’d done so wrong.

Aoi looked to Maribelle, and for a short while, was too shocked to say anything.

Unfortunately for her, Maribelle was in no mood to hesitate. “You heard me! All she wanted to do was talk with you guys, and you go and push her down the hill! She could’ve gotten hurt, y’know!”

“Er, I…” Nicolas began an attempt to explain himself—and then stopped as he saw the supposed victim lean down towards the child’s ear. It was a good thing, too, since he was inexplicably starting to feel guilty for something he didn’t even do.

Maribelle’s eyes widened, and what would otherwise be a lengthy rant came to a screeching halt.

“Oh…” She looked towards Aoi. “So you were the one who…?”

Aoi responded with a silent nod and a reddened face.

“ _Oh…_ ”

Maribelle looked back towards the boys she’d so wrongfully accused, apologizing with a nervous chuckle. “Oops. Sorry about that!”

Nicolas cleared his throat, partially in an attempt to clear the ambient discomfort. “It’s fine…but, er, you said that she wanted to talk, right?”

Aoi hastily answered the question herself, grateful for some way out of this awkward situation—even if it would only likely lead into another. “Yes, yes I would _really_ like to talk to you about something…er…”

“It’s…it’s Nicolas.”

“Right—and you’re, uh…”

Jakob blinked—he honestly hadn’t expected the girl to acknowledge him when he wasn’t making himself a threat, much less ask for his _name_.

“…Jakob. That’s my name.”

“‘Jakob’—got it!”

* * *

“So—Aoi, was it? This gem here is yours?”

“Er… _kind_ of, yeah.”

Aoi tried to put on as straight a face she could, keeping her master’s earlier comment in mind. Now that she thought of it, she never was that good at lying—a fact that her peers had never ceased to poke fun at during her days as a trainee.

Nicolas looked over the gem with a finger to his chin—fortunately, she seemed to be good enough to fool _him_ , at least. “I see.”

Aoi sighed in relief, grateful that things didn’t get any more complicated. She glanced over at Jakob, who was apparently in the middle of a staring contest with Maribelle…well, that’s what it looked like to her, anyway.

“So, do you know what it is?”

Aoi’s wide eyes snapped back to Nicolas. “Huh?”

“The gem, I mean. Was it made—well, assuming it isn’t natural—for anything in particular? Does it have any special qualities?”

“Well, I, uh… _don’t_ know, actually.”

Nicolas raised an eyebrow slightly. “Really?”

“Nope! Well, by ‘nope’ I mean ‘no, I _don’t_ know’, not ‘no, I _do_ know’—which I don’t, just to be clear! Know, that is.”

Nicolas narrowed his eyes—Aoi had never hated her terrible way with words as much as she did in that moment.

“I was just taking it somewhere!” She stammered, desperate to hang on to what little credibility she had left.

After a few agonizing seconds, Nicolas finally spared Aoi from his doubtful gaze. “Fine, then, I won’t probe you—I’m sure you have your reasons…”

Aoi’s heart sank as she watched him return his attention to the gem—and it sank even further when he handed it over to her.

“Here you go, then.”

“Um…thank you…”

“Wow.” commented Phoenix, as Aoi looked to her vessel—which was currently perched atop the side of the fallen trolley. “You managed to convince him of your lie while still outing yourself as a liar. I’m almost impressed, Aoi—though I’m guessing that _diverting_ suspicions wasn’t exactly your intent…”

Once Aoi had fully realized just what she’d managed to do, she felt a rising urge to scream at herself.

Before she could go too far into her spiral of self-loathing, though, Nicolas spoke up again.

“So, pardon me for asking, but—what happened here?” He asked, motioning towards the cart.

Aoi glanced towards it herself, flashing back to recent events. “Oh, uh…long story.”

“Ah, I understand.”

Aoi felt a small wave of relief wash over her until she realized that no, no he did _not_ understand. “No, wait, that’s not what I meant! Honest!”

“I’m serious, Aoi, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” Nicolas held his hands up, backing away slightly—she was losing him. Not good.

“But I _do_ want to tell you! Well, I mean, maybe not _everything_ , but—ow!”

Aoi recoiled in pain as the gem fell to the floor. She looked at her hands: the burning sensation that had shot across her palms was only just beginning to fade.

“Er, are you…?”

Aoi looked to Nicolas, about to at least _try_ and explain what just happened—which would have been hard, considering she didn’t entirely know herself. Once she saw his wide-eyed stare, however, she simply followed his gaze to the ground—and only then did she understand why he’d trailed off.

* * *

The gem glowed brightly as it lay on the ground between the two, pulsing out waves of warmth that grew more intense with each passing moment.

Both Aoi and Nicolas stepped back and shielded their eyes against the light, while Jakob and Maribelle finally averted their gazes—only to block their own vision in turn once they had caught sight of the jewel’s nigh-solar radiance. Phoenix, despite her surprise, managed to protect her vessel’s eyes with a wing—and through said vessel, she was able to sense the mana that had laid dormant within the gem suddenly flare to life.

“What the _huh_ …!?” Maribelle shouted, just before the light began to fade. Slowly, she opened her eyes and turned her head back towards where the glow had come from.

The girl’s face then lit up in turn; her eyes and mouth went wide.

As Aoi slowly drew her hands away from her face, she heard an odd sort of scream—one that she could have sworn came out of…

“Maribe—”

Aoi ended up cutting herself off once she actually saw what was unfolding in front of her—and just like that, she was suddenly even more confused than she was mere seconds ago.

Nicolas blinked away the slight pain in his eyes as his mind reeled with questions. Once he returned his gaze to where the gem was—or, at least, where it _had been_ —he found at least one answer: namely, to the question of what had even happened in the past few moments.

That said, that answer raised even more questions in turn.

Jakob was never one for words to begin with, but even if he was, he may have been just as speechless at the sight before him.

The odd creature that had been locked into Maribelle’s embrace fluttered a set of feathery wings, while the glow of its crystalline horn went on to fade completely. It blinked, glancing at the girl as she nuzzled into its soft fur.

“Er…hello…”


End file.
